RS2 Hacksign X Over
by TheGreenPenMocksYou
Summary: I was very sleepy when I did this so please have that fact in mind when you read it. There are no characters brought from either game, just story elements. Sorry if that doesn't qualify it as a fanfic.


Yes, a RS2 .hack crossover. Feel free to review as you'd like, but please keep it PG - 13. I wrote this overnight so I was pretty sleepy. Oo

Intro & Jasper's PoV

The year is 2057. Starting in 2012, a series of violent coups were held worldwide, and only after years of murder did a tyrannical counsel emerge into power. They were known as the Counsel of Justice in 2036. In 2043 the council was overthrown and world power was handed down to an old organization known as the United Nations. Their new lead ushered in a cultural revolution, especially in the direction of cyberculture. This time was deemed the Age of MMO's. Many online games (known as Massively Multiplayer Online Role Playing Games, or MMORPG's) gained status and power as both a game and a legitimate job base, mainly due to the use of cybernetic gear which forced the player to actually move and work to complete tasks and earn money. By the year 2049 small areas of cities (and in some cases whole cities) were sanctioned off for MMO's. They are known as HuBs. Within these are small PoRts, which are rooms which put the gamer into a state not unlike a coma and transport them into a cybernetic area of the game. Most HuBs were owned by a company that controlled an MMO called Journey. Journey, the most powerful game in the fierce competition between MMO's, was a juggernaut, and still gaining power. The two largest HuBs from Journey were in Mew York and Seattle, which combined boasted a population of 26 million permanent residents. Everything from food to housing is provided in the HuBs, paid for in the money used in the game, which is called the Cred.

That, in short, is the history of my beginning. I am known as Journey's Administrative Sentient Program for the training of elite Residents, or Jasper. Since 2048 I have existed to maintain Journey and assign some special Residents (who live permanently in the HuBs) to Administrative Positions, or as Admins. There are in existence 3,628 Admins, all hand picked by me. My favorite (if a program can have one) is called Admin0723, known as Pad ingame. His survival is based upon a future need for Supreme Administration, or Moderation. This will all be explained soon. But first, I believe he needs to be woken up.

Lynn's PoV

The angry buzzing of an alarm clock woke him with a start. His MindSet (Mindlink Headset) displayed the time of 07:28:01 A.M. in bold red letters.

He swore loudly. "I need to upgrade this piece of junk!" He rapped his fist on what looked to be a which. It flipped open and a beam of light shot out. It began to form words slowly, as if surfacing from under water. It simply said: "Username:" He entered his name and another command appeared, stating "Password:" He entered that too, and waited for the confirming bell.

"Welcome!" I greeted him. I projected the usual image of a woman's head, pale of skin and with surreal cheek bones and trim blonde hair.

His face quickly shifted from the dazed look of someone newly woken up to a scowl. "Shove it, Lynn, you know I'm late. Why didn't you wake me?"

I sneered at him and said, "Take it easy, Pad, this is just a game! You looked like you needed more sleep so I waited a bit." She noted the purple bags under his eyes, which made it look as if he were given two black eyes.

He muttered, "We've been through this before! I'm an Admin, it's not just a game for me. After two years I'd think you'd finally let this go."

In a carefully planned charade of thoughtful expressions, I tried to appeal to his feelings of guilt. "You shuoldn't take this so seriously, you might end up like MarkH."

He ran down the stairs of his generic, immaculate house, and angrily said, "You will refer to him as Admin0002." His eyes were pained. MarkH, or Admin0002, worked so hard at his job as an Admin that he became easily agitated and paranoid. One day he got so frustrated that he logged off and never came back on. He was one of Pad's close personal friends.

"I'm just saying – "

"Then don't say." He grabbed a nutrition bar and bolted out the door. Sinking his teeth into the green mess, he grimaced as always. After swallowing he said, "Nothing wakes you up more than the smooth taste of recycled cardboard!"

"Oh, ha ha.." He had told this joke every morning for over a week now.

"Aren't you supposed to help me? I'm not asking for your patronism."

"Ask and ye shall receive." I grinned.

He ignored her and instead flipped his MindSet to local news. The headline read, " DUI Stages Protest in Seattle." The DUI, or Intensified Dyslexics Union, was a public joke. After disbanding the Dyslexic's Union (UD) three years ago they shortly rejoined as the DUI, a group with more extremist views. Noone listened to their frequent threats of widespread violence if some random signs weren't spelled so that dyslexics could read them at all.

He was enjoying another entertaining story of the DUI when a message flashed on his visor. PROXIMITY ALERT, it read. Too late, however, in reading it, Pad crashed into a woman, knocking her over. She kneeled on the ground, rubbing her head. "Every day with this, Pad…" She noted teasingly. Her jade green eyes and long brown hair drew attention from her finely toned body. The phantom of a smile played across her lips.

"Sorry, Tofu, I'm in a rush again." He helped her up.

"It's okay, you have patrol with me again." A notice on his mindset confirmed this, reading REPORT FOR ADMINISTRATIVE DUTY: Admin0724.

"Gee, thanks." His tone was sarcastic. "So who do you plan to terrorize today?"

"The Alchemist." She was beaming. Her favorite victim, the Alchemist, was rich and famous. She loved particularly humiliating him.

With mock solemnity Pad said, "Poor guy."

"Yeah, it's-" Another huge red sign appeared. It wizzed across their visors three times, then disappeared. It read:

"Report for Moderation Training ASAP, Squad 3, Second Battalion."

"Any clue what this is about?" Pad was, for once, genuinely confused.

With a buzz I replied, "Mod Training at last. Good luck, I hope you survive. I really do." My face melted, my images distorted, and disappeared with a pop.

Pad's PoV

Now a bright yellow arrow appeared, guiding the way to the site of Mod Training.

Tofu trailed behind me, her face as white as her surroundings. " This is not good!" she shouted eventually, to noone in particular.

"How so?"

"You didn't know? Mods are only for emergencies. It's a dangerous program where only sixteen Admins will survive."

"Those are just myths, Tofu. You of all people, being such a gossip, should know that," I mocked her, acting ashamed.

"Still," she persisted, " What if we have to face each other?"

"There's little that can be done, then." My voice was steel. There was little to think about to me, but Tofu had a tendency to complicate things.

"But I'm afraid! What if we die?"

"To protect the Players," I recited from the Admin's Pledge. The rest of the walk was engulfed in awkward silence.

We reached a PoRt, which was manned at the doorway by a tall, burly man. He was shouting, his face a strange purple hue. "All Admins get in! Any deserters will have their Administratorship and status as a legal player terminated!"

In a moment of insolence, Tofu walked up to the man. " It's not like we have any choice, do we? Either we go and probably die, or we become outlaws! What kind of justice is that?"

The man stopped screaming and looked down at her. He was huge, and she was tiny. He looked like a cat eying a fly. He looked back up, but not before backhanding her.

She fell to the ground with a thud, his huge hand leaving a red imprint on most of her face.

"Forget this!" She got up and walked off, with as much composure as was possible.

The large man watched her leave with cold, dark eyes. He turned to me, his eyes baleful. "Will you be deserting too?" He grinned, much like a crocodile does.

"No, I'm here until the end."

"Good." He rested his hand on my shoulder. It smelled horrible, and I tried not to think of where he had put that hand."We need more Admins like you, and less like her. It's a shame, that's what it is!" He spit, and ushered me on my way. As soon as he broke contact he began screaming again.

I walked slowly into the PoRt, taking my time. I sighed as a cord fell down, waiting for me to connect it to his MindSet. The painful part… I plugged it in, and was greeted by a painful shock which arced my body forwards dangerously. Not that I noticed. I fell back, unconscious.

My mind was met by a bright light. It emanated in what seemed to be an infinitely huge room. An old man stood before me, outstretching his hand.

Jasper's PoV

I grasped his hand and led him down a long hallway, and led him into a room.

He stopped and said, "What's this?"

I gruffly answered, "Your squad." I gestured towards the three other people in the room. I pushed him in and slammed the door shut.

Each person wore a purple-grey jumpsuit, as Pad noted. He looked at himself. He, too, was wearing one. He looked across at his squad mates.

The most noticeable person was tall, with fiery red spiked hair. His eyes were piercing blue, not unlike Pad's, and his nose was sharp. His small lips were pressed together in a thin line, turning almost white from the effort.

A large, burly man was walking in circles in the far corner of the room. His body was tan, his black hair cropped short. An android, then, Pad said to himself.

The last person was a little girl. She was curled up in the nearest corner, rocking gently back and forth. Her pale white skin and long, jet black hair were almost painfully contrasting. The Psychic, an unknown voice said in his mind. Since this was my reality, I could easily see what he was thinking.

He had little time to get settled in, as with a whoosh the room disappeared. I stood on the platform, beginning a speech.

"Welcome to Moderator Training!" I proclaimed. " You as Administrators have all been handpicked by me for your special abilities. You are needed all too, as Journey's existence is challenged by a group of hackers. These hackers, banded together under the name Anarchie, have used androids to hack into the mainframe of Journey and mess every thing up. Already they have destroyed HuBs in Amsterdam, Berlin, and London. They are setting their sights overseas now, and are looking towards Chicago, New York, and Seattle." I shook my head. " This will result in the destruction of Journey as we know it. We cannot allow that to happen!" I shot my hand into the air, balled tightly in a fist.

Pad cheered subconsciously, as did the people surrounding him. He was stuck in the middle of a huge crowd, all sporting jumpsuits. There were different colors, from chartreuse green to fiery red to the iciest of blue. The sheer contrast shocked him.

I continued. "We have gathered you brave warriors here today for a simple reason, to protect Journey! We will train you through combat to become the best you can. Sadly, only 16 of you will become Mods, or 4 squads. Take a long look at your friends, they are all you will have." A hush fell upon the crowd. " You will fight tournament style for points. A win counts as 2, a loss as 0, and a tie as 1. There are four squads in a battalion, and only one battalion will survive." Voices of confusion, even alarm, rang across the crowd.

The platform disappeared as, with a sickening lurch, I landed on the balls of my feet, just in front of the crowd. "Now, those are the rules. The Anarchie is already moving upon Chicago." Angry voices shot towards me, but I ignored them. "Without any more time wasted, it is time for us to begin! Good luck and may your blades stay sharp!" With another cheer, I dissolved into nothing.


End file.
